Handstands
by Kuruk
Summary: IoH. A snobbish food critic, and a clueless jungle boy... Pierre, Shea, and the many shades of their oddball relationship. A series of alphabet vignettes.
1. A through E

_Hello everyone! Kuruk is back... AGAIN! (is shot)_

_Hee. Well, I am back... but for how long I can't say... Anyway, I got IoH for my birthday last week, and I really like it. It's a nice game, if not a little hard to control... but, hey, that's life. I particularly liked Shea and Pierre, along with Witch Princess, and Denny and a whole bunch more people...! But primarily Shea and Pierre. So, I thought, 'why not write something about them?' so I did. :D_

_These are alphabet vignettes on Pierre/Shea, not all of them are slash, in fact, none of them in this chapter are slash unless you squint... I will put for vignettes per chapter, and this is the system: two Pierres, two Sheas, two Pierres, two Sheas and so on. _

_Yay. So..._

_Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't sue._

_Hope you guys like it!_

_

* * *

__**Handstands**_

**A**merican

If you want to get technical (and you'd best do so) Pierre is a descendant of the finest, most legendary European chefs there ever were, putting all other Gourmets to shame and filling them with envy.

He proudly (and smugly), tells this to everyone he meets.

Usually this inspires awe, like with Chelsea. Or at least a sort of respect, like with Natalie.

But with that ever so _frustrating_ tribal _nincompoop _(not _really_, though Pierre would never admit it), who knows nothing of the world beyond the forest, Pierre is from the only country Shea recognizes.

America.

_America, _as in _American._ Home of the distasteful, grease-packed, _fattening_ fast food that causes a heart attack a minute and obesity run wild.

Really, Pierre's seen what it's done to _some_ unnamed Gourmets that, well, _let themselves go_ (like Pierre himself, before Fat Camp...)

But _no_, the _savage _never listens. Instead, he keeps showering Pierre with _stupid_ questions. "Little boy," Shea will begin while Pierre looks for cooking ingredients, "Is chief of America strongest, like Wada is here?"

"Little boy, the old man from elephant tribe trying to be chief weak! Why the one from the horse tribe no just smite him?"

"Little boy, what tribe of America you from?"

_Honestly_, it's enough to drive Pierre _insane_...

--

(Little) **B**oy

Pierre doesn't like remembering when he met the savage, because, _well_, it was _embarrassing_...

Chelsea, being as dedicated to the reconstruction of the island as she was, had hired Gannon to build a bridge to the forest ("A bridge to nowhere," Pierre had sniffed, "Good Goddess what a _waste..._").

Still, Pierre wasn't one to shirk his responsibilities as a Gourmet. For all he knew the forest could be housing the missing link of delicious ingredients! He wouldn't be a true Gourmet unless he investigated...

Unfortunately, he _did_ find the missing link, just not in ingredients...

He'd just been collecting some ingredients... and then next thing he knows he was _assaulted_ by an insane _monkey._

It wasn't until he was trussed up, carried over to a _shack_, and offered to a man with a _lizard_ (dear Goddess, a _lizard_) in his mouth that he realized that _no,_ it wasn't a monkey, but a _half-naked_ _boy!_

Pierre had feared that maybe the island was inhabited by cannibals, and that he was the first to go (all the extremely talented were), especially after his captors spoke in some foreign tongue...

But suddenly the man with the _lizard_ in his mouth smacked the boy, shouted in that foreign tongue and the boy hefted Pierre onto his shoulder, took him all the way back to the bridge, then dumped him there.

"Sorry, little boy," was all the wild boy said, and then he left.

Pierre nearly blew a casket. He was _not a child!_ He just had a _growth hormone deficiency!_

He was almost too angry about the 'little boy' comment to notice that he was still trussed up... on a bridge to nowhere, in the middle of the night.

Almost.

--

**C**onfusion

Shea doesn't understand a lot of things.

Like why Wada got mad at the man and lady in the funny dresses when they asked to set up 'church' on tribe lands. ("What is 'church?" Shea had asked after they left. Wada had just smacked him.)

Or like why Chelsea's cheeks get red whenever the fisherman with the weird bird-thing passes by. ("Chelsea, did sun burn your skin?" Shea had asked, alarmed. Chelsea had just turned redder.)

Or like... well, almost everything... except hunting, he understands _that._

But the thing he didn't understand the most were girls.

Shea had never heard of 'girls'. He didn't see one until Chelsea had come to the forest, and even then he didn't understand what was so different about them... except in the way they acted.

Like how they giggled at things, or got scared of small things like lizards, or could be happy and singing then suddenly mad if you said something 'wrong' ("Chelsea looks stronger today! Bigger! Especially in stomach!")...

No, Shea would never ever understand girls...

"You _savage!_" Pierre screamed, face red with indignation, "I will _not_ wrestle with you!"

Shea watched as the little man stomped away, muttering angrily to himself about 'savages' and how he needed chocolate to get through the day...

Come to think of it, Pierre behaved a lot like a girl too...

Maybe _that's_ why he didn't understand him...

--

**D**ance

Every year there is a day that Wada says is a very special day, because it is the day that all animals are said to 'mate'.

Shea really doesn't really understand the concept, but, what he does know is that Wada says hunting is forbidden on that day, and that instead he and Shea must make a fire that will last the entire night and do a special dance to invite 'fertile spirits' to bless the forest.

The whole thing is very special, Shea knows, so, when it comes around, he prepares the lumber for the fire beforehand and makes the special ceremonial clothes needed for the dance.

But this year Wada told him that instead of dancing, like usual, he would have to find a 'mate', because it was time for him to become a man.

Shea had always assumed the way of becoming a man would be to hunt something very strong, or maybe even beat Wada in a wrestling match (he had trained for that endlessly) but when he was told that all he would have to do was find a 'mate' he became very excited.

So an hour or so before midnight (Wada had told him he'd need to find a mate before the dance) he had run into town and literally bumped into the small frame of Pierre.

"W-watch w-where y-you're going!" the little man had exclaimed after a very girlish shriek.

Shea had looked at Pierre intensely. "Little boy, you going to festival too?"

Pierre huffed and adjusted his purple top hat. "No," he said while dusting himself off, "I'm looking for a legendary mushroom that grows only at night!" a smirk danced on the blonde's pale face, "So naturally I'm too busy to-,"

"You come!" Shea cried, a splitting smile on his face.

The blonde had opened his mouth to retort, but before he knew it the hunter had picked him up and run off with him into the forest. (Pierre had shrieked all the way there, but Shea had just muttered about going faster, much to the Gourmet's horror).

They got there just as Wada was lighting the fire. "Wada! I bring mate!" Shea had exclaimed, happiness written all over his face, "Now I man!"

"_What!?_" Pierre had screamed, red spreading all over his cheeks.

Wada had smacked Shea and had (attempted) to explain mating custom, all while Pierre had huddled by a tree, very aware of the traitorous blush that would not leave his cheeks.

Whether it was due to Shea's blunder or knowing that all around him animals were mating, he didn't know...

--

**E**clipse

This was the way Pierre saw his future: he would become a renowned food critic that would guest star on _all _TV cooking shows (except 'Top Chef', because they had _amateurs_ cooking there), then, after making a name for himself, he would marry the best chef in the _world_, have _two_ children (one that would become a chef, the other a Gourmet), and then spend the rest of his days being a food critic for a prestigious magazine.

It was expected of him, and nothing less.

At first, Pierre had pursued all of these goals vigorously. He started out by judging small town cook-offs while scouring the personal adds for amazing chefs.

He found no success though. He never did break out of the small town-scene, and every date he went out on would end with the potential wife laughing in his face because of his appearance, aspirations, but more commonly, his taste in clothes (purple was an _amazing_ color, he didn't care what those brain dead bimbos said about that...)

Sunny Island was an exception though.

While people did give him funny looks at first, they didn't anymore. He'd become one of them, no matter how eccentric, or difficult, or meticulous he was... (because everyone knows that there are even _stranger_ people in town...)

Still, Pierre... liked the village, and its inhabitants...

Freaks were all welcome there...

His dreams were being eclipsed by the... niceness of belonging, and Pierre wasn't complaining...

"Little boy, you want lizard like Wada? I want one."

... not all the time, at least...

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_A/N: Hee. Hope you guys liked it...Pierre's such a little snob and Shea's so clueless... XD  
_

_The next chapter will stat with Pierre, then two more Sheas and then one more Pierre... Since there are 26 letters in the alphabet, there will be 26 vignettes based on the letters, then two more because then they won't be evenly spread out... (I'm OCD...)_

_So that's seven chapters... stay tuned! XD_

_Hope you guys liked it! Review please. :) _

_Happy Halloween by the way! Have fun! ;)  
_


	2. F through H

_Oh my God. Is this an UPDATE??? From KURUK?_

_Whoa, hell must have frozen over, huh?_

_XD Well, here's an update for this fic. Unfortunately though, you are only getting three vignettes today, as last time I messed up and gave you five. :3 My bad. However, one of them's longer than usual, so that should make up for it._

_Enjoy. :)_

_

* * *

_

**F**ailure

Gourmets all had one deep, dark secret...

One that they had to guard with everything they had...

Pierre had thought his secret safe... until, well, Lanna had been a nosy diva and asked. "You know, Pierre," she had said in a sing-song voice, "If you know so much about food, why don't you cook something amazing for me?"

The little Gourmet had ceased in his examination of the latest catch Denny had brought him, breaking into a sweat. "W-well..."

"Ooh!" Popuri had exclaimed, "Yes! I'm _so_ hungry!"

The girls had giggled and agreed and proceeded to badger Pierre about it until the Gourmet had snapped at them about 'being too busy to indulge their childish whims' and, as if to prove it, he stormed off in a totally random direction...

Which of _course_ had to lead him crashing right into the savage...

Literally... again.

As always, Pierre was knocked onto the floor while Shea looked down at him, head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Hello, little boy," Shea greeted, a grin on his face, "You look sad. What wrong?"

Pierre shot up, without dusting himself off or anything. Shea's head only lolled a little more in his confusion. "N-nothing!" Pierre snapped, walking away.

As _always_, jungle boy followed him.

"Wada always say that you share when you feel bad so you feel better soon," Shea advised him as he trailed Pierre.

"No!" Pierre growled.

"You should," Shea called back.

"_No!_" Pierre screamed, and proceeded to run in another totally random direction...

Only to trip over a rock and fall...

Of _course._ The Goddess just _loved him_, didn't she?

Blinking rapidly, Pierre made out the tanned form of Shea blocking the sun out, casting a shadow on the small Gourmet. "You fine?" jungle boy asked, head still cocked to the side in that _infuriatingly_ annoying way of his.

"No," Pierre tried to growl, though it really came out as more of a whimper.

To be honest, Pierre had expected the taller boy to act like a total _savage_ again and do something, well... _wild._ Something like sling him over his shoulder and run him to Wada (because Shea always maintained that Wada's remedies were 'more better' than the doctor's...) to get his scrape treated... Or maybe he expected him to do some kind of... _ritualistic dance_ that was supposed to heal those scrapes right up... or something.

Instead, Shea surprised him soundly by sitting down beside him.

"Wada also say that being quiet also help," Shea explained.

Pierre, after getting over the shock of finding out that Shea could actually be _considerate_, had hesitantly nodded. The pair lapsed into silence... one of those nice silences in which you could cool down and think about things.

After a few minutes (it could've been _hours_, really), Pierre found himself spilling out the secret that all Gourmets were supposed to keep. By the time he noticed how traitorous his tongue had become, however, it was too late...

"I can't cook," he blurted, then quickly covered his mouth and looked away in shame.

He could _feel_ Shea's hateful glare on him! It was _burning_ into him, accusing him of being a _fraud_, a _liar_, a _disgrace_-,

"That what bother you?" the other boy asked instead.

The Gourmet forced himself to meet the hunter's eyes. "What do you mean _is that what bother me_!?" he screamed, arms flailing about wildly, "The _nerve!_ This is my _deepest, darkest secret!_ Of _course_ that's what's bothering me!"

Shea nodded all through Pierre's tirade, and when the smaller boy calmed down, huffing, trying to catch his breath, Pierre found that Shea had put a tanned hand on his shoulder.

"That no problem!" Shea exclaimed, beaming, "I help you learn!"

Pierre blinked a few times... then began to laugh, maniacally, really.

_Really,_ he may be a savage, but sometimes, Shea was funnier than anyone Pierre had ever met.

--

**G**astronomic (Experiment)

Really, Shea didn't get why the little boy was so upset about something so... small.

Cooking was easy, and Shea should know! Ever since he was little Wada had taught him how to cook all kinds of things-- fish, and... well, _fish, _mostly... but Shea was sure that he could teach the smaller boy to cook, and even though Pierre had laughed very, very loudly at the suggestion, the hunter had kept insisting until Pierre had caved with a shriek of "_Fine, teach me!_"

And so it had been that Shea had happily made his way to Pierre's house to try a dish the petite chef had said had been in his family for generations. Shea didn't mind, though-- as long as it was _food_, well, the hunter was fine with it.

The Gourmet's house was... _clean_, Shea noted when Pierre opened the door. The blond looked quite nervous, though Shea couldn't quite figure out _why_, it was just food...

Pierre led Shea to the table and brought him a plate with something... black on it. As Shea sniffed at it cautiously, Pierre began to ramble. "This dish has been in my family for generations. It's called 'Gourmet Surprise'," Shea began to poke at the... thing with his fork, "It's made of a variety of ingredients... fried on high for..." Pierre paused when Shea pushed the plate away, "I-is.. there something wrong...?"

Shea crossed his arms over his chest and looked away. "Black thing... can't eat..."

The little Gourmet looked horrified at first, then looked like he was about to cry, and then he began to shriek. "You _inconsiderate_ wild man! Don't you know that it's only _polite_ to at least _pretend_ to like the food!?"

As Pierre hurled insult after insult at him, Shea stayed silent.

Somewhere between first meeting Pierre and now, Shea had learned that the Gourmet only screamed like that when he was trying to cover up something else... in this case, sadness.

The food may have been disgusting and burnt, Shea thought, but at least he had begun to understand Pierre a little better...

--

**H**ands

Shea was absolutely fascinated with Pierre's hands.

They were small, pale little things-- the fingers pudgy with baby fat, yet swift... Honestly, they were almost like a child's hands, like how Shea's own hands looked in the memories of the hazy time he couldn't remember before Wada, and the jungle...

But the thing Shea liked the most about them that they were so _soft_.

Shea had never felt hands that soft before... let alone _soft _hands at all.

Wada's hands, like his own, were calloused from years of hunting. Chelsea's were worn and almost like sandpaper... Denny's were chafed from the handling of fishing rods, as were Lanna's. Sabrina's were stained with ink, and Gannon's felt like pure rock...

The day he had first felt them, he had walked in on Pierre _attempting_ to cook something. The Gourmet's hands had been fumbling with the knife, and Shea, who was well accustomed to handling knives, put his own hands over Pierre's and guided it.

The Gourmet had fussed about how the hunter was doing it wrong, but Shea wasn't listening. He was much too busy taking in the feel of those baby soft hands.

Eventually, Pierre lost patience (as he always did, Shea noted) and shooed the hunter away...

But still, as he lay on his mat late that night, he could still feel the pure softness against his own palms-- a faded memory, an enriching sensation-- a promise of something Shea couldn't quite put his finger on.

* * *

_A/N: There you guys go. I hope you guys enjoyed it._

_Thanks to all of my reviewers for last chapter! I really appreciate and look forward to them!_

_Next time you will (hopefully) get the regular four... :)_

_See you! Review?_


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